


Ink and Trust

by TheAssassinLover



Series: The Life of Venna Tabris [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Pre-Relationship, Tattoos, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAssassinLover/pseuds/TheAssassinLover
Summary: Venna noticed that Zev has more tattoos than just his face. Now she has a question for him.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Female Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Series: The Life of Venna Tabris [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/334426
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all. That's right, I'm still not done with these two. This was originally going to be a one-shot but it seemed like it would flow better as two chapters, so that's what I'm gonna do. Enjoy!

Venna was trying not to stare. Really, she was, but it was rather difficult to keep her curiosity at bay when she kept catching sight of Zevran’s arm. That in itself should not have been so distracting, but as the two sat beside each other, each cleaning and repairing their weapons and armor she had caught his sleeve riding up his arm, revealing just the smallest of black lines.

So now she sat, hands moving subconsciously as she kept looking at her companion, hoping to get a better look.

“See something of interest?”

Venna jumped at the Antivan’s voice, eyes snapping up to meet his as she swallowed. “No. I mean, sort of.” Venna fiddled with the tool in her hand. “You have more tattoos, don’t you? Past the one on your face?” The three lines on the left side of Zevran’s face had always been a favorite of hers to look at. The way they followed the curves of his cheek and jaw was its own sort of beautiful.

“Ah, I see.” Zevran glanced to his arm, and the small bit of exposed skin. “I may have a few.” He told her with his trademark smirk. “Would you like to see them?”

Venna felt her face heat up as she looked away, yet that was exactly what she wanted. Just not in the way Zevran implied. “Not like that but...can I?” She asked softly. “Not here, but...later? On our watch?”

Zevran seemed to be slightly surprised by her answer but agreed readily. “Of course, Venna.” His eyes traced over her facial features. “I do not believe I have ever said this, but your own tattoo is quite fitting of you.”

“Not working.” Venna muttered, even as she turned to hide her smile, ears burning.

Zevran huffed a quiet laugh. “That may be the worst lie I have ever heard you tell, my warden.” Venna’s response came in the form of a punch to the arm. “Come now, there is no need for violence. Unless it is the kind where neither of us are clothed or in immediate danger.”

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable!” Venna hid her face in her hands.

“I do try my hardest.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, catching his amused expression which made her laugh in spite of herself. After a moment she recovered enough to resume her actions. Zevran did the same, and if he noticed her gaze wander to his wrist once more he didn’t mention it.

In a strange way, Venna was excited for their watch.

***

The took the second shift, waiting for Leliana and Alistair to return to their tents and sitting before the crackling fire. Venna stared into the flames, the orange reflecting in her azure eyes. Zevran glanced over at her. “You seem to be lost in thought, dear Venna. May I ask what troubles you?”

Venna looked at him with a raised brow. “We’re on a mission to save Ferelden, with only a camp of misfits and some old pieces of paper to help us. What do you think is wrong?”

“Ah yes, deflection. I am well aware of our current troubles, yet your face tells me that is not what is bothering you.” Zevran pointed out, his features held an unnervingly understanding expression.

Venna bit her lip. “I miss my family.” She finally admitted. “Shianni went through something terrible right before I left, and my father…” Venna shook her head. “I was all he had. I miss them. I hope they’re alright.”

“I’m sure if they’re even a fraction of the force you are that they are fine. Strength runs in the blood, no?” He sat back, holding himself up with his hands. “I never had a family to speak of, not truly, but I think I understand in a different way.” The far off look in Zevran’s eyes made Venna tilt her head. He looked...sad. It was gone nearly as quickly as it appeared though and his usual mischievous glint returned. Venna found herself wondering if he was deflecting as well.

“That does help a bit. Thank you, Zev.” She pulled her knees to her chest in an act that made her appear younger than she was. “Were you still willing to show me your tattoos?” She changed the subject.

Zevran to his credit didn’t comment on that. “If you’re certain you wish to see them.”

“I am.” Venna assured. “My curiosity is getting the better of me in this situation.” A small smile graced her lips.

Zevran smirked at her, then reached for the hem of the loose cotton shirt he wore, pulling it off in one motion.

Venna tried not to think about how that left him in only the pants he wore, sitting low on his hips. Her eyes traced over the inked lines, tribal work running up his left arm and down his side, vanishing under the waistline at his hip. There were others as well. A symbol on his pectoral that she didn’t recognize. A crow on his back. She had to stop herself from reaching to trace some of the lines. That wasn’t the purpose of this. “Where did you get these?”

“Various places.” He replied. “Some are from artists who roam Antiva. Some are from old friends in the crows.” He cringed a bit but recovered. Venna didn’t comment. “This one I did myself.” He indicated a place where the tribal curved into an intricate floral pattern. Venna found herself admiring that one a little bit longer.

“Zev?” Venna met his eyes. “Have you ever tattooed someone else?”

"A few times." His eyes met hers. "Were you interested in another, my warden?"

"I had considered it, yes." She admitted softly. “Would you maybe consider giving me one?” Her head tilted.

"Venna." His tone had shifted, a more serious edge to the words and Venna furrowed her brow, confused by the change. He continued. "You would have me alone in your tent with sharp objects."

_ Oh, I see.  _ "I haven't forgotten who you are, Zev." She whispered. “I trust you.”

Zevran studied her a while longer before he smiled, easing back into his usual demeanor. “In that case yes, I would be willing to leave my mark on you so to speak.”

Venna felt the usual heat creep up her neck at his choice of words but smiled regardless. “Thank you.”

She thought she might have imagined his whispered words. “No Venna. Thank  _ you _ .”


	2. Chapter 2

“You are certain about this?” The look Zevran was giving her made Venna want to shrink at the intenseness.

“Yes, Zev.” Venna said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I want this. I trust you. I know what I’m asking.” She gave him a small smile.

Zevran stared at her a moment longer before nodding. “As you wish, dear warden.” He picked up the bag near his feet. “Let us go then.”

“Uh, hey. What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Alistair’s voice broke in, and Venna looked to find him eyeing Zevran suspiciously.

“I asked Zev to give me a tattoo.” Venna told him. “We’re off to do just that.”

“ _ What? _ You’re going to let the assassin at you with sharp needles? Are you crazy?!” Alistair genuinely looked like he wanted to wring her neck and Venna felt heat creep up the back of her neck.

“Do you always need to have such a one-track mind, Alistair?” She snapped. “It’s been  _ months. _ If he was going to kill me he’s had many chances, or you know, he could have just let his poison do its job in the first place!” She huffed out an angry breath. “I trust Zev with my life. Maybe you should work on doing the same.” She turned away from him then and looked at Zevran. “Come on.”

She made for her tent and Zevran stared after her a moment completely dumbfounded by her defense of him. The whole time he could feel her fellow warden’s glare but opted to ignore it. “Maker’s breath.” The human breathed.

Zevran then hurried after the other elf, trying to hide his brief mental lapse. “After you.” He said, trademark smirk back in place.

Venna smiled at him and ducked beneath the tent’s flap. Zevran found himself taking a deep breath before following. This woman confused him, and it scared him in a way. She was beautiful and caring and gave him a chance many would have not. In fact, most would have likely cut his throat had he done to them what he did to her. Yet here he was, with her leaving herself open and vulnerable, and with open trust. It made his chest twist strangely.

“Zev?”

Venna’s voice drew him from his thoughts and he shook his head slightly. “Sorry, my warden. My mind wanders.”

“If it’s what Alistair said ignore it. I know he just worries but his treatment of you is unfair.” Venna said seriously.

“He does have a point, Venna. Regardless of the time passed I did make an attempt on your life.”

“And you’ve saved it. Multiple times.” She argued. 

She moved closer to him, close enough to almost give in to the sinful temptation that had haunted him for weeks, but he resisted. Instead, he changed the subject. “What did you have in mind for your design?”

Her expression told him she knew he was diverting, but she said nothing of it. “Despite my new life as a warden, my home is still with my family in the alienage.” She said quietly. “I’d like to have some part of that with me still. A symbol of what I left behind.” She sighed. “I was thinking of the vhenadahl.”

Zevran hummed to himself and nodded. “I can certainly do that for you. Did you have a location in mind.”

There was a small pause before she answered. “My back. Along one of my shoulders, with some of the branched wrapping over if possible.” Her voice was soft, and Zevran’s mind wandered again, though he quickly stopped it.

Instead, he looked over her, imagining in his mind the design he could give her. “That is doable.”

Venna nodded, and watched as Zevran prepared supplies. Inks and needles. Her heart rate increased a bit at the idea, but she knew what to expect. Her face had its marks already. She smiled to herself at that memory. Her father was less than pleased when she got home. In fact, that was one of the only times she had ever truly seen him angry with her, but it was already done, and rather permanent, so he got over it quickly.

Once Zevran was prepared he looked to Venna. She knew, before his mouth could utter a syllable, what he was going to say. She turned away from him, showing her back and pulling her shirt over her head. Her breast band was still in place, but she still tensed at the cold night air, and the gaze of the Antivan she could feel boring into her.

She jumped when Zevran touched her, but he simply traced invisible lines over her left shoulder, mapping them in his mind she imagined, fighting the urge to shiver at his light touches. The tension in her tent was palpable, and she swallowed. Now was not the time for such thoughts, if ever. She knew the dangers that indulgence would pose. A danger far different from any physical threat she might face.

“Lay forward, my warden, and we will begin.” Zevran said softly.

Venna took a deep breath and did as he asked. She felt him clean her skin with a rag and alcohol, then heard him fiddling with the supplies. The next thing she felt was the sharp pain of the needle touching her skin. She took care not to move, letting Zevran do his work, and focusing on her breathing. It went mostly without incident. She had to ask for a break when he reached her shoulder blade, the pain becoming intense without any adrenaline in her system, but past that things went smoothly.

He had her sit back up to wrap the branches over the top of her shoulder and arm. This part had practically no pain and felt like it took the least amount of time.

When he was finished Zevran sat back, placing his tools back at his side. “I do have some salve to prevent infection. We do not exactly lead lives that will prevent it from becoming dirty.”

Venna laughed softly. “That is fair enough.”

“If you follow me to the river, you can likely see it with the moonlight.” Zevran told her.

Venna finally turned toward him, her modestly still in tack on account of her band, though she still saw Zevran’s gaze wander. She chose not to mention it. “Lead the way then.”

Most of the camp was asleep by this point, and so Venna quickly left the tent, not bothering with her shirt. The only ones out to see her were the golem or Leiliana, neither of which she figured truly cared.

Zevran stood to the side as Venna angled herself to see the design in the water’s reflection. It was perfect, wrapping up the left side of her back, branches extending up over her shoulder and the base of her neck. “Zev, it’s perfect.” She whispered. She looked over to him, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her, watching as she looked once more. “My pleasure, dear Venna.”

Zevran watched her, gaze wandering once more. He wanted her, that much was true, but every day he started to think that want was more than physical. The thought was startling.

When the two returned to camp they each retired to their own tents. Zevran breathed out a sigh of relief, finally able to relax without the risk of doing something absurd or stupid.

Little did he know, Venna was in her tent thinking the very same thing.


End file.
